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Where You Left Them, Part III

Lensker shook his head as he stood up from the table. “No idea, Chalk. No idea.”

“Really?” said Chalk, who suddenly seemed to loosen up and release the tension from his chest. “How strange. I could have sworn that they were right here in front of me.” He held a foot out from under the table. At the end of a blue pinstripe trouser-leg hung an unremarkable brown shoe, polished and laced and neat.

Alarmed, Lensker took a step back, but then felt a strong grip upon his shoulder. He turned around and came face-to-face with a man who look exactly like… himself? Same face, same hair, same build…

“Two hundred samples of your DNA,” said Chalk. “One taken each day from the cutlery you used at this restaurant, and we were able to create a clone.”

“He will be my spy,” said Chalk. “He will pretend to be you, people will hire him, he will learn their secrets and share them with me.”

“What are you going to do with me?” said Lensker.

“Does it matter?” came the reply. “You are a fraud and a coward. Did you do anything with your life? Change anything even just a little bit? Did you ever make the right decision… or just the easy one?”

Lensker began to choke.

“You didn’t really live your life, Lensker,” said Chalk. “So now we’re going to do it for you.”